


Parasomnia

by Jeiidaan



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: A look into Yukio's traumas, Character Study, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Night Terrors, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeiidaan/pseuds/Jeiidaan
Summary: He never woke up screaming.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27
Collections: Ao no Exorcist Secret Santa 2020





	Parasomnia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carefulfleshgnawer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulfleshgnawer/gifts).



> Late but, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!! I hope you like it ♥♥♥ Horror is hard lmao so I had to go with nightmares because dreams are just something I'm good at.

He couldn’t breathe. 

Yukio had to wonder why, because it felt like he was in water what with the way his lungs felt heavy, pained, and swollen with the stuff, but he didn’t feel wet. The exorcist coat on his person was perfectly dry and the space around him was empty.

Empty.

The space around him was empty.

There was nothing.

Nothing but blackness.

Nothing but a cheshire cat smile.

Nothing but fire as he struggled to breathe.

Nothing but the fingers around his throat.

Nothing but the light laughter that tickled the air like the silver bells they would decorate the monastery in every Christmas. Every birthday.

Yukio gasped. He shot up in bed and stared at the wall, heaving and gulping breaths as if he really had been choking. He coughed and, expectedly, a hand was on his shoulder, a hand rubbing his back.

“Yukio? Hey, hey, are you okay?!” His brother’s voice was pitched with concern. Yukio threw out an arm and shoved him back.

“I’m  _ fine, _ ” he snapped, not wanting to look pathetic, not wanting to look small. Yukio glared at him once he caught his breath.

Rin wasn’t there.

Yukio was sitting alone in the bottom bunk of their bedroom in the monastery. That’s right. Rin was working overnight and would be back in the morning. He had found a new part time job.

He pressed his palm against his forehead. What was he thinking? Of course Rin wouldn’t be there. Was he losing it?

Yukio stood up and got dressed, noticing how his cardigan hung over his shoulders loosely. Was he losing weight or had their father messed up the washing again? He should’ve done the laundry. 

“What are we going to do for breakfast now that Nii-san is working in the mornings?” Yukio teased to himself. He wasn’t in the bedroom anymore. He was in the kitchen and smirking at Izumi struggling with the stove. 

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out!” 

It was not Izumi.

Yukio’s smirk fell away and he pulled his exorcist coat open and pointed a gun across the forest clearing.

“What?” Toudou’s teasing lilt played its way across the air, caressing his ears like a doting father. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Shiro turned with a wide, pointed grin, engulfed in blue flames, bones disjointed and dislocated, the fingers of his hand pulled clean off.

“Come here and let daddy take care of you!” He cackled and surged across the clearing towards him. 

Yukio screamed.

“Yuki-chan?!” A soft hand was shaking him awake and Yukio’s eyes snapped open, his throat rasping with the scream it was producing in his sleep.

That sort of worry didn’t belong on her face. Shiemi looked as if she was about to cry. She placed a soft hand on his cheek and brushed away the hair that stuck to his forehead from the cold sweat covering his body.

“Are you okay?” she bit her lip. 

“Sorry. Sorry, it was just a dream.” Yukio sat up in their bed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. He needed to pull it together. He couldn’t worry her. “Could you give me my glasses? I think I need a shower.”

“Sure, Yuki.”

That was not Shiemi’s voice. 

Yukio’s eyes opened and stared in shock at the pink haired shirtless man in bed beside him. Renzou twisted and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand before tenderly placing them on his face.

“You want me to join you?” he asked teasingly. “I can wash your back.”

“I… No, no. Absolutely not.” Yukio shook his head.

He was laying on his back and Renzou was on top of him, fully dressed in the Illuminati uniform as he straddled his hips. 

“Hey,” he chided with a soft smile. “Ya know it won’t do any good, right?” 

“Wh-What…” Yukio couldn’t inhale. He was still in his pyjamas. Shirtless with sweatpants. His legs were tangled in sheets. Renzou’s weight on top of him was too heavy on his stomach. He couldn’t inhale.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Renzou leaned down, purring out the question as his hips rubbed down against his. “You like this, don’t ya? This whole thing.”

“No… I’m not… doing this because I like it…” Yukio wheezed as Renzou’s hot breath hovered near his lips. 

“Liar.”

Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. 

It was barely a word anymore. It hung in the air above him like the oxygen he breathed. 

Yukio breathed. He wheezed in, grabbing his own throat in a paltry effort to breathe again.

_ Help me. _

Yukio sobbed, his voice broken and refusing to work. His head was searing. His eye was searing. 

_ Help me! _

“Hey!! Back off!”

Yukio sobbed in relief and frustration as his brother ran into his field of view and punched the bully in the nose. The child immediately began to cry, holding his face and running away with his friends, scattering quickly as his brother yelled at them.

Tears fell thickly down his face and Yukio couldn’t breathe through the weeping sobs that clenched at his chest. He had been so terrified and scared and now he was angry. The torrent of emotions that wracked through his tiny frame were enough to make him scream.

So he did.

He screamed.

He screamed and let out every built up feeling that clawed at his chest. 

He screamed and let out every roughened emotion that he’d bottled up all of his life.

He screamed and let out every fear, every slight, every pain, every inch of rage he held in his body.

He screamed as he fell. The top of the building that he’d stepped off of was a long way from the ground. 

He screamed as he desperately clawed at the air, filled with regret.

He screamed as if his brother could come and save him again.

He screamed and sobbed and cried in anger as he thought of his brother saving him.

He screamed and pleaded as he thought of his brother saving him.

His brother did not save him.

Yukio collided with the pavement. His shoulder hit first and he felt it like a spiderweb crack of pain spread from the point of impact to the rest of his body. 

His neck was next. It broke as his skull broke inward, concave and flat on the abandoned street. His spinal cord squished together, cartilage popping from the force as his bones shattered. 

By the time his hips hit the ground, he was dead.

He couldn’t breathe. 

Yukio had to wonder why, because it felt like he was in water what with the way his lungs felt heavy, pained, and swollen with the stuff, but he didn’t feel wet. The exorcist coat on his person was perfectly dry and the space around him was empty.

Empty.

The space around him was empty.

There was nothing.

Nothing but blackness.

Yukio opened his eyes slowly, silently. He stared at the white ceiling for a long few moments before his head turned to look out the window. The expanse of sky was as beautiful and blue as always. He hated it.

Yukio sat up, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm before he closed the left one and kept it shut. He grabbed his eyepatch and glasses from the nightstand and put them on before swinging his legs out of the bed. 

There was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” he asked with a grating voice.

“It’s meee~!”

Renzou’s voice came annoyingly through the door and Yukio grumbled as he crossed the room and opened it. 

“Good morning!” he chirped cheerfully, already dressed in his Illuminati uniform. “Wow, sensei, you sure look like a wreck!” 

“Shut up. What do you want?” Yukio snarled.

“I’m just here to pick you up! We gotta head to the medical division after breakfast so I thought I’d accompany you.” Renzou beamed.

“Ugh. Let me get dressed,” Yukio grumbled.

“Want me to come in?” Renzou asked teasingly.

Yukio’s answer was to close the door in his face.

He crossed the room to the closet and grabbed his clothes. He gave the bed in the corner a cursory look and frowned at the sheets, carefully peeled to the side to allow him to answer the door.

They were like that constantly. He woke up without issue, his bed neat and tidy around him. He found it somewhat comforting and was able to head into his bathroom with more confidence. 

He had always had nightmares, ever since he was a little kid. They had never stopped, only grew more varied, had more content to feed off of. They were never the same, always picking at his brain in different ways, but there was one thing in common with all of them.

Though his nightmares were always chaotic, Yukio knew one singular fact, one that allowed him to get dressed knowing that he was truly awake.

Without fail, whenever he woke up with a scream, he was still dreaming.


End file.
